


Too Good To Deny It

by Erimthar



Series: Claire and Elle [2]
Category: Heroes (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Electricity, F/F, First Time, Superpowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 23:34:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2207247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erimthar/pseuds/Erimthar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Primatech and Pinehearst gone, Claire and Elle have formed their own "company", dedicated to tracking down rogue individuals with dangerous powers, and either turning them over to the government... or hiding them from it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is set about ten months after the events of my short story ["Departure,"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2064090) and is off on an alternate future from the official continuity of _Heroes._ Part of a continuing series.

Elle stepped into the dark hotel suite and set her tartan overnight bag down just inside the door. “I’ve got this,” she said.

She pointed at the lamp, sitting on a side table between the room’s two windows, twenty feet away. A barely-visible arc of electricity zapped from her finger to the lamp. The bulb illuminated with a flicker as the light came on, filling the luxury suite with a warm glow.

“You’re getting good at that,” said Claire, coming up right behind her.

Elle grinned proudly. “Damned straight.”

After the bellhop arrived with the rest of their things, Claire opened up her laptop and settled down cross-legged on one of the beds, calling up the files for tonight’s operation. Elle explored the nice spacious suite.

“This is cool,” she said. “Did you put Karen and Green in a place like this, or are they in a Motel 6 somewhere trying to get the snack machine to work?”

“They’re in a suite down on the second floor. I figure if anyone can tolerate sharing a room with Green, it’s Karen.”

“Karen is pretty unflappable. I haven’t seen her flap yet.”

“Fifteen years in the FBI Crisis Negotiations Unit. I don’t think one night with a weird roommate is going to faze her much.”

“You’re gonna have to kiss her tonight, you know,” Elle told her, grinning. “The target works in a lesbian bar and you two have to be together, so it’s couple time for you. Green and I get to solo. We’ll just spend the night getting hit on by hot chicks in Jimmy Choo shoes.”

“Well, you’re the one with all the secret agent experience,” Claire said, not looking up from her screen. “But Karen’s 25 years older than me, and married with two kids in college. Don’t know if making out with teenage girls is on her to-do list.”

Elle came over and sat next to Claire on the bed. The laptop displayed a photo of a striking but sullen-looking woman.

“Heidi Marrucini,” Elle said. “I remember her. Mr. Thompson and your dad thought it would be loads of fun to have somebody on the Company payroll that could turn liquids to poison just by touching them. Then they found out she could only poison like, a bathtub full of water at once. Not a whole city reservoir or anything. So they lost interest.”

“She’s working for the mob now,” said Claire. “Gets hired as a bartender in some bar or restaurant that her mark goes to. Poisons their drink, they die, the poison reverts back to normal liquid after a few minutes. Forensics has nothing to go on. They call her The Bartender.”

Elle made a face. “What a dumb supervillain name. Are we all taking comic book names now?”

“I dunno. Do you want to? What would my comic book name be? And don’t say  _Claire Bear_.”

Elle thought hard. “Hmmmm. The Iron Cheerleader? The Rock-Hard Rah-Rah?”

“Pass,” said Claire. “How about your name?”

“Princess Electra!” exclaimed Elle brightly, without a moment’s hesitation.

“I think there already is an Elektra.”

“There is?”

“Yeah. Remember that movie with that woman from  _Alias_?”

“Oh yeah.” Elle looked crestfallen. “That movie  _sucked_.”

“Well, maybe you could call yourself The Other Electra Who Doesn’t Suck Like That Movie.”

“Deal!”

 

*          *            *            *            *

 

Claire finished up her work on the computer just as Elle emerged from the bathroom in the party dress she’d be wearing for the evening.

It was a short, dark, sparkly thing that left her arms and pretty much the entire length of her legs bare. At the other end of those legs was a pretty pair of strappy, open-toed high heels.

Claire could only stare at her in wonder.

“Is something wrong?” Elle asked, misinterpreting the look.

“Elle,” said Claire evenly. “Do you have any idea at all how beautiful you look?”

“Really?” Elle gave that smile… the radiant one she only indulged in when she really meant it. “The dress works, huh?”

“ _You_  work. The dress just helps.”

Elle walked slowly over and sat down next to Claire. “You sure have a nice way with words, pom-pom,” she said. “Stick around, okay?”

“Not going anywhere,” said Claire with a smile.

“Speaking of going places,” Elle said, “you had a long drive today. And you wouldn’t let me take a turn.”

“You’re not on my insurance, and you don’t pay attention to road signs,” Claire told her.

“Yes I do, and anyway, the point is that you had a long drive. Don’t want you all tense for the job tonight. Do you want me to give you one of my special back rubs?”

Claire felt a thrill race through her at the suggestion. “Do we have time?”

“Oh, we’ll have time. Now, off with your shirt.”

Claire had her t-shirt off before it even occurred to her to be shy about stripping off in front of an audience that way. But soon Elle’s hands were on her, and all else was forgotten.

Elle’s back rubs would have been wonderful under any circumstances. Claire would never have believed, when she knew Elle under less pleasant circumstances, that the older girl could be so gentle and good with her hands. Gentle, that is, when the situation called for it. Not so much when it didn’t.

But these back rubs came with a special bonus: the thrilling little discharges of electricity that Elle sent through her fingertips into the tense muscles of Claire’s shoulders and sides and back. Each delightful little zap drew a squeak and a giggle from Claire, which made Elle chuckle.

Elle slipped her hands up underneath Claire’s hair and traced a buzzing, sparkly line with the back of each index finger, from a spot just below each of Claire’s ears, down the sides of her neck, along the slopes of her shoulders and down the sides of her arms.

“ _Ooooooh_ , gawd,” Claire moaned.

“Like it?” Elle purred in her ear.

“Just a little bit.  _Mmmm_. You know, Elle, it wasn’t that long ago I’d have been a little concerned to have your hands this close to my throat.”

Elle laughed. “I’d have choked you like a chicken,” she admitted. “And you’d have gotten right up and kicked my ass.”

“I’d have been admiring your awesome fashion sense the whole time, though,” said Claire. “I would have done my best to keep the blood off your Armani jacket.”

“I loved that jacket,” Elle pouted. “Fucking Rossi and his fucking mud-storms.”

“Yeah, that case did kinda suck. I was digging sand out of my ears for a week.”

Elle massaged Claire for a while in silence. Shivery caresses in the small of her back. Making the peach-fuzz on the back of her neck stand up. Tickling her underarms without even moving her fingertips. Claire was lost in bliss.

“Thanks for coming to get me, Claire. Thanks for saving me,” Elle said softly. She sent a warm little jolt with each hand into the sensitive spots just above Claire’s hip-points.

Claire sighed with pleasure. “I didn’t really…”

“ _Shut up_ , Claire. You went and got two million dollars and had me raised from the fucking  _dead_. So let me thank you, or I’ll set your hair on fire.”

“Okay,” said Claire, raising her hands in surrender. “I consider myself officially thanked. And the real thanks is that my ex-dead arch-enemy is now sitting on a bed with me, looking unbelievably beautiful and giving me the world’s sweetest massage.”

Elle’s arms slipped gently around Claire. “Keep saying things like that, pom-pom,” she whispered in her ear, “and God only knows what I might do next.”

Claire was startled to hear Elle suddenly laugh with delight as she looked down over the younger girl’s shoulder and down her front. “I guess you  _are_  enjoying this, Claire.”

Looking down, Claire was mortified to see the outlines of her  _very_  erect nipples pressing  _very_  noticeably through the dark fabric of her bra. “Damn,” she muttered, trying ridiculously to cover herself up with her arms.

Elle laughed again. “I’ll consider that a good review.” Her voice lowered to a seductive purr. “Your headlights are already on. Want me to light you up the rest of the way?”

Claire closed her eyes and shuddered with excitement, and a little trepidation. She knew from experience what that offer meant.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“I can’t hear you.”

“Y…yes…” Claire said, a little louder.

“Is your bladder empty? And your bowels? We don’t want housekeeping angry with us, now do we?”

“I’m good,” said Claire, taking a deep breath.

“You certainly are,” said Elle with that outrageously teasing tone of hers. “And you’re gonna be a lot better in a minute. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” whimpered Claire.  _Oh god oh god oh god…help me…_

Elle brushed the hair aside from the back of Claire’s neck and probed with her fingers until she found just the right spot, where the spine reached the base of the skull.

“Cheers, cheerleader,” Elle said.

The world turned inside-out as Elle sent lightning from Heaven straight down Claire’s spinal cord. It reached the base of her spine and exploded out into every nerve ending in her body. In the space of a split second, the charge seemed to pinball up and down the entire length of Claire’s nervous system a thousand thousand times.

Claire seemed to be screaming, but no sound came out. Helpless tears flooded down her cheeks. She would have jerked right off the bed onto the floor if Elle hadn’t been holding on to her tightly. “It’s okay,” she murmured softly. “I’ve got you. Just go with it. Don’t fight it…”

Claire knew, somewhere deep in the part of her brain that was still working, that this experience would very likely kill just about anyone else. The pain would have been more than anyone could bear. But Claire couldn’t feel pain. All of that was absent, stripped out, and nothing but the power and the inhuman  _pleasure_  remained.

When she finally came back to her senses, feeling weak and trembly, the first thing Claire noticed was that she was on her back, and Elle was straddling her. Electric Girl’s lovely face gazed down at hers from a few inches above. Soft blonde hair tickled her face.

The second thing she noticed was the coolness of the air conditioning against her bare breasts. Somehow, in the… heat of things, she had lost her bra.

“I took it off you,” Elle explained. “It was starting to smolder a little bit. It’s a nice bra and I didn’t want you to lose it, bursting into flames or anything. You have pretty nipples, by the way, pom-pom. Brown. I would have figured you for a pink, or maybe melon colored. But I guess it comes from being half Italian. I like yours better than mine. I have boring nipples.”

“Ahhhmmm,” said Claire, testing to see if her voice worked.

“How did it feel?” Elle asked.

“Like getting fucked by a thunderstorm,” Claire whispered.

“It was good, then?”

“Ooooh, yeah.”

“Wouldn’t recommend it for anyone with pain receptors, though?”

“Ooooh, no.”

“Well,” said Elle brightly. “I think I found my superhero name. _Thunderstorm_.”

“Thunderstorm it is,” smiled Claire, sighing and stretching.

And then soft hair flooded around her face, she felt the warmth of Elle’s breath, and soft lips pressed against hers.

Claire’s eyes flew open in momentary shock. As flirty as their relationship had been over the past few months… despite all the unbelievably erotic things Elle had done to her with her power… this was the first time she’d ever kissed Claire. It was as if she’d never been able to bring herself to do it, as if it would be some sort of sacrilege.

Elle’s tongue shyly asked admittance to Claire’s mouth. It was granted.

Elle broke off the kiss after a moment. “Want me to stop?” she breathed.

“Not unless you want to see me cry,” Claire whispered back.

The kiss resumed, deeper this time. And deeper still.

Claire lost herself in the gentle sensation, the play of tongue against tongue… loving the warm breath pouring in soft rhythm from Elle’s nose against her face… the feel of her soft blonde hair. The pounding of her pulse. Gasps and sighs and tiny cries of pleasure as Claire nibbled Elle’s neck and shoulders and earlobes, and Elle returned the favor with interest.

Eventually Claire found herself staring at the fancy-tiled ceiling of the hotel room. Elle breathed softly in her ear, her face nuzzled against the younger woman’s neck and shoulder. Claire luxuriated in the feel of the warm, beautiful body lying atop hers. She ran her hands lovingly up and down, feeling the delicate fabric of the beautiful party dress… the graceful curve of Elle’s back… the firm swell of her bottom… then the hem of her dress and the soft, supple, warm skin of the backs of her bare legs.

Claire sighed. This was turning out to be some kind of a day.

She turned her head so she could look into Elle’s lovely grey-blue eyes. Claire had never seen anyone else with eyes of just that color. She thought maybe it had something to do with Elle’s power. They were so beautiful.

“You kissed a girl,” Elle sang softly at Claire.

“And I liked it,” Claire responded, smiling.

“Don’t mean you’re in love tonight…”

“What makes you say that?” Claire asked softly, reaching out to caress Elle’s cheek.

 _Awww_ , thought Claire.  _I didn’t even know Elle could blush._

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

The Trianon was one of the nicest establishments Claire had ever been in. It had been some sort of big, fancy ballroom years ago. The ceilings were very high, and there was a lot of fancy plaster molding around the ceilings and down the walls. It was huge, well-lit (at least this early in the evening), and filled with intimate little tables and circular sofas for quiet conversation.

Claire, Elle, and Karen arrived at seven o’clock, which was when most of the clientele started filtering in for drinks after work. This clientele consisted mostly of upscale lesbians working in the media, arts, design, and public relations industries. The bar quickly turned into a busy hive of competing perfumes, fab shoes, designer clutches, and personal electronics.

Claire had put on a simple blue dinner dress… cute, but nowhere near as revealing as Elle’s. Karen wore a tan, belted pants suit that made her look every inch the on-the-go professional woman who was allowing herself to relax just a bit. Except for the relaxing, which she was pointedly failing to do.

“You know how I feel about this op,” she said quietly to Claire as they made their way through the crowd toward the circular bar in the center of the room. (Elle had already broken away from them to mingle and get ready for when she was needed.) “It’s way too public, and we’re making far too many assumptions about the kind of protection she has.”

“But they keep her under constant close guard whenever she’s not working,” Claire responded. “It would take a major shoot-out to get at her then. When she’s here in public her watchers have to back off a bit.”

Karen sighed. “The mob doesn’t own this place, and they’re reluctant to shoot up any establishment they can’t easily clean afterwards. But as soon as our suspect goes down, they’re going to move in. You can count on it. We’re going to have to move fast, and everything is going to have to go our way. If there’s any gunfire civilians are going to get hurt, and our chances of cleanly extracting the suspect go to nil.”

Karen Roth had been the first full-time agent Claire and Elle had hired. Her background in law enforcement special ops, combined with her competence, her methodical approach, and her very useful power, had made her an indispensible part of every operation. Claire and Elle had teasingly nicknamed her “Willows” after the  _CSI_  character she reminded them of.

Karen was old enough to be Claire’s mother, but she was in top physical condition and had taught Claire and Elle a great deal about self-defense, as well as strategy and planning for ops like this. She’d told Claire that, since she couldn’t be damaged permanently or feel pain, a good tactic might be to just take the bullet and use the element of surprise – when her attacker was letting down his guard, expecting her to fall on the ground dead or screaming – she’d just lunge in, take his gun, and kick his ass. It had worked more than once. That was  _not_  the kind of advice Claire’s father would have given her.

Karen had also given Elle the idea of trying to form an electromagnetic shell around herself that might be able to deflect bullets. And Elle was beginning to have some success with that. On several occasions they had experimented by having Claire lob pennies at Elle as hard as she could, only to have them wind up in a weird kind of orbit around her, without ever touching her body.

“Hang on,” Karen said, grabbing Claire by the arm. “I want to do a sweep.” She stopped in her tracks, closed her eyes, and thought for a few minutes. “Nothing suspicious yet,” she said finally. “If there are any mob goons here, they’re not doing any goon-like things at the moment.”

Karen’s power was the ability to detect and identify any movement, however small, within a radius of 50 yards or so, regardless of line of sight. Over the years, she’d honed that ability to scary perfection. Claire had frequently seen her, on the shooting range, hit a moving target dead-center without even glancing in its direction. Once, when flies had been bothering them at an outdoor café, Claire and Elle had watched as Karen had plucked half a dozen of them in a row out of the air with half a dozen casual pinches of her thumb and forefinger.

“They’re doing a pretty good job of blending in, unless they’re girl goons,” Claire observed, looking over the almost exclusively female population of the place.

“Well,  _I’m_  a girl goon, aren’t I?” Karen said with a smile.

“But there aren’t a whole lot like you. Do you see Green anywhere?”

“How could I  _not_?” Karen said with an exasperated sigh. “Over there, beyond the bar, looking  _unobtrusive_.”

Green Fairy looked like she’d just stepped out of a Duran Duran video, circa 1983. She wore a short, bright green leather dress, green tights, and black boots. Her hair was cut in a shaggy New Wave style… left its natural blonde color, not green (“because that would be too much”). On some days, like today, she added a pair of long green opera gloves which had the added benefit of dampening her power to a manageable level when she discharged it.

Claire knew her real name, but it didn’t matter. If you tried to call her anything other than “Green” or “Miss Fairy,” she’d just cross her arms and pout and not answer until you called her by the right name.

Right now, Green was standing in her own little spot in the middle of the floor, posing a bit, sucking on a straw protruding from a drink in a big pineapple-shaped glass. She was coyly pretending to ignore all the attention she was getting from the pretty singles that were admiring her from every direction.

Green noticed Claire, and smiled at her briefly. “At least she didn’t wave,” Karen said grumpily. “I know I hired her, but that girl has a serious case of the weirds. I’m glad you got us a suite with two beds, at least.”

“You know, Willows,” Claire said, “Elle thinks we should kiss. Since we’re supposed to be a couple and all.”

“Oh she does, does she?” Karen looked down at Claire with amusement. “If that’s the worst thing I have to do tonight, I’ll consider this a damned successful operation.”

“You worry too much.”

“I worry the exact right amount.” Karen sighed and looked down at Claire again with a sideways smile.

“So… do you want to kiss me, Claire? If so, we’d better do it right here, away from the bar. We don’t want to attract the suspect’s attention.”

Claire looked up at Karen’s smiling face in confusion.  _What am I, insane? This is…_

But a moment later her lips seemed to have found their way to the older woman’s mouth, and her hands seemed to have found their way around her waist.  _What are we doing? Crazycrazycrazycrazy…_

It was an accident, Claire assured herself… it really was… when her tongue slipped past Karen’s lips and into her mouth. It was the fault of Karen’s lip gloss, probably. Too slippery.

It was no accident, though, that Karen… instead of spitting out the foreign teenage tongue as Claire expected her to… sucked it a little bit deeper into her mouth and started swirling her own tongue enticingly around it. Doing that for… a good while, before she finally playfully nipped the tip of Claire’s tongue with her teeth. Claire gasped and pulled out.

A nearby table full of unattached young women applauded loudly.

“So much for not being noticed,” said Karen, rolling her eyes.

_God…when did I get so gay?_ Claire thought.

*    *     *     *     *

Heidi Marrucini, “The Bartender,” was an attractive but dour fortysomething woman most notable for the cascade of chestnut-brown hair that hung down to her waist – a characteristic that Karen derided as a stupid affectation for an assassin, who should go for as much anonymity as possible. Karen said it bothered her that Heidi didn’t seem to care about that.

They didn’t know exactly who Heidi’s intended victim was, so it was imperative to neutralize her as quickly as possible. The extraction team, posing as EMT’s, were already in position just outside the building.

There were three bartenders in total, and it was still early, so there were still seats at the bar and still the opportunity for conversation with the bartenders. Karen and Claire took seats at Heidi’s section and ordered drinks – an Azteca Sunburst for Claire, and a Brandy Alexander for Karen.

“You two ladies seem to have made a stir with the regulars,” Heidi said to them distantly. “You new around here?”

“We’re here for a workshop at the MCA,” Claire replied, trotting out their cover story. “Patricia and I are preparing an installation at a new museum up in Portland.”

“Modern art, eh?” said Heidi distractedly. “I’m more a Velvet Elvis kind of girl, myself. Excuse me.” She wandered away, looking as if she were listening intently for something. Or  _to_  something.

“Claire,” said Karen evenly, “I think our suspect is wearing an earpiece. Be on alert for things going to hell any minute now.”

Sure enough, it was not a friendly-looking Bartender who turned back in their direction. “Hey,  _Claire_ ,” she called angrily. “Let’s see how your asshole of a father likes his pretty daughter with her insides on the outside!”

She pointed at Claire’s midsection, and immediately Claire felt the Azteca Sunburst in her stomach turn into… hydrochloric acid, maybe? Something that gave her a wicked case of heartburn. Heartburn that involved actual smoke pouring out her nose and mouth. “ _Urrrrp_ ,” she observed.

“You alright, Claire?” asked Karen, immediately slipping into her patented cool-head-in-a-crisis mode. “This has gone to shit in record time, I must say.”

“Yeah… _urrrrrrp_. Looks like Heidi has the ability now to transform liquids into poisons…  _ulp_ … over a distance. That wasn’t in her file.”

Claire was having a hard time dealing with the Worst Cocktail Ever, gagging as the acid tried to ruin her insides, and her insides gamely refused to be ruined. She could feel her stomach lining knitting itself back together as fast as the poison could tear it apart. Not a pleasant sensation. But, she had to admit, better than the alternative.

“Two goons moving in from the main entrance,” Karen told Claire, consulting her ability. “Feels like they’re both going for concealed weapons. Wait until they get within hand-to-hand range before engaging them. We don’t want them firing through the crowd.”

The two mob enforcers slid through the crowd with practiced ease. They had almost reached Claire and Karen before the bar patrons in the vicinity noticed the drawn guns in their hands. Fabulous young clubbers fled noisily in all directions. Karen nodded to herself in satisfaction as the area quickly cleared of bystanders.

Both of the goons seemed to have in mind putting their guns to Claire and Karen’s heads and marching them quickly out, probably for interrogation or some other mob-type thing that wouldn’t end happily. Karen was delighted with that plan, because it required her goon to come within her reach.

Claire astonished her attacker by lunging out and grabbing his gun hand, pulling it towards herself and pressing the barrel of the gun into her belly. Startled, the goon reflexively pulled the trigger. Claire grimaced. There was no pain, of course, but she never could quite rid herself of the  _expectation_  of pain. Fortunately, her body somewhat muffled the sound of the gunshot and prevented a general stampede throughout the bar.

Just as Karen had always said, the man let his guard down immediately after firing what should have been a killing shot. Claire put her fist into his nose hard, breaking it and staggering him.

Claire paused just long enough to note that the bullet had passed through her liver and part of her large intestine, leaving a messy spray of gore on the floor behind her.  _Good thing they have tiled floors here_ , she thought.  _Putting carpet in a bar is always pretty stupid anyway._  She couldn’t help wishing the bullet had gone through her stomach instead. Might have drained out a little bit of that damned acid on its way through.  _Urrrp_.

Looking around, Claire saw Heidi the Bartender pointing her finger at Karen, trying to get a clear bead on her. Karen had gotten inside her man’s personal space and was faking a knee to his groin.

_Never go for an actual groin shot against a pro_ , Claire could remember Karen telling her once.  _They always expect it, and they wear protection. But the instinctive reaction is a slight, momentary rise in blood pressure, which makes them more vulnerable to…_

Sure enough, Karen aborted the groin shot and instead punched him right in the jugular vein, which was just starting to pump blood a bit harder after the perceived threat to the family jewels. The man’s eyes rolled back in his head. Karen grabbed his gun-hand by the wrist and proceeded to pistol-whip him into unconsciousness with his own gun, still held in his own hand.

_Damn, she’s good_ , Claire thought, still struggling with her own man, who was rallying and trying to get control of his gun back. Claire knew she had lost the element of surprise on this one. And she was worried about Karen… she would be in big trouble if Heidi transformed the Brandy Alexander in her belly into something horrible. Karen didn’t have the iron stomach Claire did.

But at that moment, Green appeared right behind Heidi. She had removed one of her long green opera gloves. Reaching out with a long, graceful arm, she touched the bartender on the shoulder. “You sleep now,” she said. Heidi went down as if she’d been hit between the eyes with an axe. “Ow,” said Green, rubbing her temples in annoyed pain as Heidi crumpled at her feet.

A slow shockwave of sleep-power radiated outward from Green, taking down one of the innocent bartenders who was standing too close. Claire felt dizzy and had to shake her head to clear it as the wave reached her. The man she was wrestling with was similarly affected. Unfortunately for him, however, Claire recovered from such things much quicker than he did.

Claire put an elbow up under his chin while he was still trying to shake off Green’s sleep mojo. He went down. Claire fell on top of him and punched him three times to be sure, bouncing the back of his skull off the tiled floor with each blow.

Claire heard Karen call out her name, warning her of something… that something probably being the third goon, who had appeared out of nowhere and was pointing yet another gun at her.

“Claire Bennet,” he said. “You don’t do quite as good with a bullet in the head, do you?” He raised the gun to point right between her eyes.

Just then his heart stopped for three seconds. He fell down without further comment, to reveal Elle standing demurely behind him, looking lovely as ever in her sexy dress. Blue lightning played around her fingers. “I’m sorry,” she said brightly. “I think I was supposed to yell  _Clear_!”

*    *     *     *     *

The fake EMT’s arrived and quickly disappeared Heidi Marrucini and all three unconscious goons. Claire, Karen, and Green were already a good block away from the scene as the first 911 responders started to arrive, sirens blaring. But they’d find nothing, except for a small puddle of Claire’s guts, which they would be hard pressed to explain. Claire went into an alley and vomited up the acid from her stomach. It left a smoking, etched crater in the greasy pavement. Elle, who was very good at Not Being Seen, had stayed behind at the scene to make sure no complications arose. She would meet Claire back in the hotel room later.

“I’ve got an eighteenth birthday present to give you, pom-pom,” Elle had said to Claire just before they’d split up.

“My birthday was three months ago,” Claire reminded her.

“We were busy then. But no girl should have an eighteenth birthday with no presents.”

Elle sounded so sad – remembering her own eighteenth birthday, perhaps – that Claire couldn’t help but reach out for her hand and give it a loving squeeze. “Can’t wait to see what it is.” Elle had smiled at that.

*    *     *     *     *

“Well,  _that_  went a hell of a lot better than it should have,” Karen said as they arrived back outside their hotel. “We’ve really gotta find some agents with gun-jamming powers or something. Or more knockouts like Green here.”

“My head hurts,” moaned Green. “It always hurts for seventeen minutes after I use my power. I got six phone numbers from the girls in that bar. They were really cute, too. I’m gonna go up to our room and use the bidet for a couple of hours and wish I was gay.”

Karen rolled her eyes. “So Claire,” she said, back in a good mood (as she always was after a successful mission in which nobody died). “I couldn’t help but notice your tongue down my throat, there.”

Claire turned a deep shade of red.

“If you two are into kissing girls, I know somebody you should meet,” Green prattled brightly. “Her name is Aera. Her body gives off pure oxygen. It comes out of every pore and she breathes it out, too. She doesn’t need any air to breathe ‘cause she makes her own. And if you were locked in a room with her, you’d never run out of air. But the cool thing is, if you put a clip on your nose and kiss her for a couple of minutes, you can get this  _awesome_  oxygen high. It’s very erotic. She has a tongue stud. Or  _so I’ve heard_.”

Karen actually laughed at that, though still pretending to ignore Green. “Seriously, Claire,” she said. “You’re a really good kisser. Elle is a very lucky woman.”

Claire jumped. “What? But we… I don’t… we aren’t…”

“Come on, Claire,” Karen said. “You two set off every gaydar between here and Edwards Air Force Base.”

“You totally do,” Green agreed. “It’s very sweet. I hope you kiss her a lot.”

Claire groaned. “Okay, I can’t deal with this. I’m gonna go away now. I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

“With Elle,” Green added, smiling brightly.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Back at the hotel room, Claire didn’t bother to change out of her blue dress – just kicked her shoes off and plopped down on the bed. She yawned and wondered if there was anything good on TV. It was still pretty early, after all.

The dress was a total loss, of course. Bullet hole in the front, bigger exit hole in the back. Fortunately, Claire’s insides had exploded out of the exit wound with so much force that not much was left on the dress itself. She was able to get home without attracting any more attention than an unfortunate partygoer who had ripped her dress.

The room door opened and Elle breezed in, grinning at Claire as she made a beeline for the bathroom. “You and Willows, Claire,” she said. “Totally hot.”

“Oh, here we go,” Claire said, rolling her eyes. “ _Your idea_ , Elle Belle,” she called. “And I bet you put her up to it. You know…”

“I absolutely did not,” Elle called back from the bathroom. “You may not realize this, Claire Bear, but almost everybody who meets you wants a taste of those soft little pink lips. Girls, boys, everybody. I’m just glad I got to kiss you before Karen did. I’d have to kill her if she beat me to you. Kill her with my  _lightning of vengeance_ , argh!”

Claire giggled at Elle’s dramatic performance.

“So, Claire,” called Elle. “There’s that little matter we talked about, regarding your eighteenth birthday present…”

“You didn’t need to get me anything.  _Althoooough_ , I’m a size 2 and Burberry London is my favorite perfume…”

Elle came out of the bathroom. “I don’t think your dress size is gonna matter. Although I do like your perfume.”

Claire sat straight up in the bed and gasped, putting her hand over her mouth. Elle was still wearing her strappy gold open-toed shoes. Rising above them, however, were five feet, one inch of pure Elle, unobscured by any form of clothing at all.

She looked so beautiful Claire could feel tears welling up in her eyes. There were no words. Just no words at all.

Elle seemed unusually shy as Claire stared at her in awestruck silence. “This new body your guy grew for me,” she said, looking down at herself. “It’s just like the old one, except all my old scars are gone. It’s kinda cool, really. Yay me.”

Claire found her voice at last. “Yay you. Is… is this my birthday present, Elle?”

“Part of it,” Elle said softly. “Just part of it.” She walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed beside Claire.

Claire gazed into Elle’s eyes and took her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. Elle seemed more nervous than Claire had ever seen her.

“We’re going to make love tonight, aren’t we?” Claire’s voice was soft. She couldn’t seem to take her gaze off Elle’s beautiful blue eyes, despite all the other nice things presenting themselves for her inspection.

“It’s kind of what I had pencilled in,” Elle answered. “Although we could always go bowling or something if you’d prefer. Are you freaked out? I’ll bet you’re freaked out. I could go get the Haitian or something, and have him erase your memories of this so we can go back to being sexy-friends. Because I couldn’t stand to lose that.” Elle seemed like she might be about to cry. “Is this what you want, Claire?”

Claire made the only response she could. She took Elle in her arms and kissed her. She didn’t intend to leave any doubt at all about what she wanted.

Claire found it very arousing, to be making out with a totally naked woman while she herself was fully clothed. Her hands ranged all over Elle’s back, over her hips and buns, up and down her beautiful bare legs. Her skin was cool to the touch, and so soft, so smooth. Claire loved the way Elle caught her breath very slightly whenever she was touched someplace sensitive.

Elle’s attempts to slip her hands under Claire’s clothes weren’t meeting with much success, though. The dress Claire was wearing just wasn’t built for that… it was knee-length, and there were no openings in the front.  _Well, we just can’t have poor Elle frustrated like this_ , Claire thought.

She gave Elle’s lower lip a playful little bite, and stood up suddenly, lifting Elle right off the bed and tossing her backwards down onto the mattress. Elle gasped and squeaked with surprise and excitement. She landed splayed out on her back and lay there giggling, looking up at her lover with lust in her eyes.

Gazing right back at Elle, Claire slowly undid the belt of her dress, unzipped the back herself (without even looking awkward – cheerleader flexibility), slid her arms out of the sleeves, and let the dress slide down her body to pool around her ankles.

Claire was well aware that, at least since she’d hit puberty, this was as naked as she’d ever been in the presence of another person, aside from her doctor and her gynecologist. And her fellow cheerleaders in the locker rooms at Union Wells and Costa Verde Highs. Claire could remember how the sight of the other girls’ sleek, athletic bodies had made her feel, and how she had carefully ignored those feelings. Probably for the best, then.

She was also well aware that Elle was absolutely eating her up with her eyes right now.

Unhooking the clasp between the cups of her bra, Claire let it join her dress on the floor. Elle got another good look at those brown nipples she’d been admiring so much earlier.

Claire couldn’t help hesitating a bit before pulling her panties down… the final break with that previous life in which she was  _not_  just about to actually have sex with Elle Bishop. She felt the soft black silk slide all the way down her legs and come to rest atop her toes.

“Cheerleader body,” Elle said, looking up at her dreamily. “So nice.”

Claire stepped out of her dress and her panties. The two women stared at each other in silence for a few seconds… radiant smiles and barely-suppressed giggles, a shared secret that the rest of the world just wouldn’t believe.

Claire could remember the first time she and Elle had looked at each other like that. On the plane, during that ill-advised journey to Pinehearst. Elle terrified and hurting. Claire thinking she just wanted to keep the plane from crashing due to Elle’s uncontrollable discharges of power.

She’d taken Elle in her arms and let her pour all the unbearable energy into her own body… not taking it from her, but sharing it with her. She remembered the awareness that had come over them both at the same instant… rising above the raging violence of the moment, the dawning realization that they fit together as if they were two halves of the same person. They completed each other. Together, they closed the circuit.

Afterwards, holding hands so as not to let the circuit break, they had gazed at each other, speechless with joy and wonder and astonishment and awe at the knowledge that  _it wasn’t hatred anymore_. And maybe it never had been? But it certainly never could be again.

It had been the single most wonderful moment of Claire’s life. And she’d seen the same in Elle’s wide eyes and breathless, breathtaking smile.

And now, after all the pain that they’d both endured in the interim, that feeling was back. And the world couldn’t be more beautiful.

*    *     *     *     *

Claire decided to start in on her birthday present from the bottom, and work her way up. So she pulled Elle’s shoes off, and dropped them on the floor with twin thumps.

Elle had pretty feet to go along with her pretty Everything Else. They looked like they’d just had a pedicure, but Claire knew Elle had taken care of them herself. Her toes were a bit longer than average, and her toenails were painted a deep ruby red.

Claire had devoted quite a bit of her alone time over the past few years to practicing her Sucking technique, using her hairbrush with the Really Good Handle as a substitute for the lucky guy she never quite seemed to meet. Now it looked as if toes and fingers and boobs would be the only things she’d be putting that skill to use on. Oh well. She took Elle’s right big toe in her mouth and went to work.

“Whoa,” said Elle after a few seconds. “That’s  _so_  sexy.” They both giggled. “You’re a girl of hidden talents, pom-pom. I kinda wish I could turn into a guy for about five minutes or so.”

“I don’t,” Claire replied, taking a momentary break from toe duty. “You work  _really_  well as a girl, Thunderstorm.” She tickled the soles of Elle’s feet, making her squeal with laughter.

The legs came next. Claire regarded Elle’s legs with almost a kind of reverence. Perfectly defined calves and shapely thighs, wonderfully soft and smooth skin… a nice golden tan that faded gradually to a lighter shade up near the hips, where shorts and miniskirts thwarted the sunlight at non-bikini times.

Fascinated, and turned on by Elle’s soft moans and occasional squeaks of laughter, Claire kissed and licked and nibbled and caressed her way from ankles to knees, and from knees to… well, to the point where the dampness of Elle’s inner thighs was  _not_  just from Claire’s saliva.

_Not yet. Tummy next._

Claire could tell right off that Elle’s trim, smooth belly was very ticklish. She loved the way the little muscles just under the silky skin jumped as tongue and fingertips passed lightly over them. Elle let out a shivery moan at what Claire’s tongue did to her navel. It was the first sound she’d made in a while, aside from her increasingly heavy breathing.

Elle’s breasts were about the same size as Claire’s – not very big. Her nipples were very light pink in color and, at the moment, hopelessly hard. Claire decided to show Elle that her earlier assessment of her own nipples as  _boring_  was an incorrect one.

Elle squealed and laughed as Claire suckled her. “God, Claire,” she gasped. “This is getting ridiculous. They should make a Wii game called  _Foreplay, starring Claire Bennet_. Where did you learn all this stuff?”

“From five years of thinking constantly about sex and never having any,” Claire replied, her voice a bit muffled from her mouth being full of Elle at the moment.

“Never having any? Never  _ever_?”

“Nope.”

“Then… I’m your first?” Elle asked, with wonder in her voice.

Claire’s face was above hers then, looking down into her eyes with so much love it made Elle dizzy. “You’re my very, very first.”

Elle swallowed hard, and grinned up at Claire. “Well… you’re my first  _girl_. Although I have had fantasies, of course. I’ll have to tell you the one where I tie Kirsten Dunst down to my bed and tickle her until she faints.”

“Yes, you will,” laughed Claire. “In great detail. And now you’re forcing me to admit to my Anne Hathaway one. Let’s just say it involves handcuffs, lots of licking, and no mercy.”

“Ooooh. Can I be Anne Hathaway?”

“No.” Claire gave her a teasing kiss on the lips. “You get to be Elle Bishop. Anne is just gonna have to stick her panties in her purse and go home.”

Elle closed her eyes and giggled and shivered all over. “Oh  _God_ , you make me squirm when you say stuff like that.”

Claire settled down next to Elle and kissed the side of her neck, which was warm and soft and inviting. “Elle, I know I haven’t really said this before, because I’ve been kind of afraid to. Which is lame, I know. But I want you to know that I love you so much I can hardly stand it. There isn’t anything in the world I’d rather see than your beautiful face, and there isn’t anything I’d rather hear than your beautiful voice.”

Elle didn’t say anything, and Claire looked over to see that her lower lip was trembling, and tears were streaming down her face.

“Wow. That was… the second best moment of my life, when you said that just then,” Elle said after a bit.

“What was the first?”

“The plane.”

“Yeah. The plane.” Claire gave Elle a quick cuddle.

“If only I hadn’t ruined it with Pinehearst and Gabriel and that fucking gun…”

“Shh. Does it look like you ruined anything?”

Elle sniffled. “Claire, I love you so much it sometimes wakes me up at night. But I don’t know how to say it. You’re the one with all the words.”

“You don’t need any words, Elle. I was on the plane too, you know. We didn’t need any words then, either.” Claire smiled and kissed the salty tears from Elle’s cheeks. Then she rained a series of tongue-tickle kisses all over her lover’s neck. “The sequel to my Wii game is out,” she whispered in Elle’s ear. “Wanna play?”

“You have to ask? Play with me, Claire. Please.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

Claire knelt between Elle’s legs, taking in the sight of her beautiful lover spread-eagled on the bed in front of her. Elle had a dreamy look on her face, and Claire imagined she did also.

“I have no idea what I’m doing, Elle.”

Elle chuckled at her. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, pom-pom. There’s absolutely no way you can screw this up. None. Does that take the pressure off?”

“We’ll see. A little pressure is nice sometimes.”

Elle closed her eyes and stretched. “Mmmmm. I’m gonna come, baby.”

Claire laughed. “I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“I know. I just didn’t want there to be any confusion over the fact that I’m gonna come.”

“Fair enough.” Claire tossed her hair forward and leaned over Elle’s midsection, shaking her head so that her blonde hair-tips tickled Elle all over her belly and thighs and points in between.

“Gaaaawd,” Elle moaned. “This isn’t gonna take long at all. I’m in so much trouble.”

“You kinda are,” Claire agreed.

*    *     *     *     *

Claire ransacked her memory, trying to recall everything she’d ever read in magazines and on websites about making love to women. She also assessed the long hours she’d spent alone, experimenting with her own tender places.  _What would I want me to do if I were Elle?_

The clitoris is sometimes tiny and hard to find, Claire remembered reading. Elle’s didn’t have that problem. There it was, front and center, anchoring the ragged pink petals of her very aroused, very wet vulva.

She kissed it gently. Elle jumped and made a sharp hiccup sound.

She kissed it again, and again. With tongue-tip the third time. Elle reacted similarly each time.

_I have kind of a long, pointy tongue_ , Claire thought.  _Maybe she’ll like this…_

Claire used the fingers of both hands to open up Elle’s channel, and, pressing her mouth against the silky wet pink, slid her tongue straight in as far as it would go.

Elle’s back arched off the bed, and she let out a scream that made Claire hope these suites were well sound-proofed. Elle released an involuntary jolt of electricity into the mattress that made the whole bed vibrate for a second.

_I think she does like it_ , Claire assessed. She slid her tongue all the way out, then all the way back in again.

Elle couldn’t speak coherently, but that didn’t stop her from trying. Claire heard her name several times, along with various words of pleading. Too bad.  _All the way out, all the way back in…_

Claire squeaked as she felt Elle’s toes suddenly in her crotch, which was every bit as ready for playtime as Elle’s was. She grunted as Elle’s big toe popped inside of her and wiggled. The same one she’d been sucking on earlier.  _No fair. I wasn’t ready._  Claire gritted her teeth and was about one second away from an orgasm when the toe popped back out again, and Elle’s lovely legs wrapped themselves around her back.

_Oooh, that was close._  Claire wiped the sweat out of her eyes on Elle’s fluffy curls, and went back to work.

In payback for the toe incident, Claire began rotating the tip of her tongue around in a slow circular motion when it was all the way inside Elle. Additionally, Claire’s nose and Elle’s pretty little love-bud had become very special friends, and their relationship was now turning serious. Elle trembled all over, and her pleas for mercy grew higher in pitch.

Judging by the way she was squirming, Claire could tell that Elle wouldn’t last much longer. Claire remembered that when she was masturbating and wanted to tease herself for a while longer, she would bring herself right to the edge, and then shift her stroking to that sensitive little bridge of flesh between her vagina and her bottom. Tickling that spot would allow her to pull back from the edge just a bit, while still remaining very close to it.

So, she pulled her tongue out of Elle and went to work down there, with lips and tongue and teasing little nips of her teeth.

Claire had been loving all the different sounds Elle made during sex, and right now she seemed to be running through her whole repertoire.  _I’ll have to record them someday and use them in a music mix_ , Claire considered.

When Elle started shooting little jolts of power into the bedsheets so that Claire could smell the first hints of singed fabric, and Elle’s right leg seemed to be shaking uncontrollably, she knew it was time.

“I love you, Elle,” she said, and slid her tongue back in. This time she curled the tip upward so that it pressed against the roof of her lover’s channel. In that position, she pulled her tongue slowly forward along the roof toward Elle’s clit, which finally just couldn’t contain itself even a single second longer.

Every muscle in Elle’s body spasmed as she sat bolt upright, making a sound like a door with a rusty hinge. Her hands, pressed against the back of Claire’s head, let out an involuntary blast of electricity that singed her hair, and nearly caused her to black out for a moment.

Dazed, Claire felt a warm flood of honey gush all over her tongue and lips and chin. She gave a little wet snuffle of surprise, then set about lapping up the sweet little mess to the sound of Elle’s hysterical sobs.  _She looks hot, sounds hot, feels hot, smells hot, even tastes hot. There isn’t a single sense she isn’t beautiful in._

It was well over a minute later when Elle’s spasms finally stopped and she sank slowly back down onto the bed with a whiny little purr of ecstasy.

Claire made her way up Elle’s sweat-soaked body, settling in to kiss and cuddle her through her afterglow.

“Mmmmmmmm,” said Elle.

“Happy?” Claire nuzzled her cheek.

“Didn’t think  _anything_  could feel that good,” Elle murmured sleepily. “Surprise!”

“Lots more where that came from,” Claire assured her with a kiss.

“I haven’t given you the rest of your birthday present, Claire…” Elle’s voice was a teasing sing-song.

“You haven’t?”

“Of course not. What kind of insensitive, orgasm-hogging bitch do you take me for?”

Excitement fluttered deep inside Claire. “What are you gonna do?”

“Open up.”

“Huh?”

“Your legs, silly. Open them nice and wide for me.”

Claire looked into Elle’s eyes, trying to get some feel for what she might have in mind. There was a wicked grin on her face, but there was nothing but love in her eyes.

Abandoning herself to trust, Claire opened herself to Elle. Smiling, Elle took one of Claire’s hands reassuringly. The other hand tickled Claire’s inner thighs for a few moments before moving up to play with her pubic hair.

“I could use this opportunity to see how good I am at going down on a girl,” Elle mused. “But it’s your first time, and I’m afraid you’d get too hot and blow your load in seconds. Am I right?” Claire gulped and nodded, embarrassed.

“I want your first climax with me to be something special. Something only I can do for you. Something you’ll remember for the rest of your life.”

Claire’s eyes went wide and she took a deep breath as she felt Elle’s hands move down to touch her most secret place – a secret that no one else had ever been in on.

“So, birthday girl,” Elle purred. “Please picture eighteen roman candles sparkling in your head.” She cleared her throat theatrically, in preparation for a song.

_“Happy birthday to you…”_

Elle pressed her thumb against Claire’s clitoris. Already, this was almost too much.

_“Happy birthday to you…”_

Elle bent her index finger double and nuzzled its knuckle gently into the tiny opening below the clit. This was even more almost too much.

_“Happy birthday, dear pom-pom…”_

Elle slid her long, manicured middle finger all the way up Claire’s vagina. It was tough going. Claire was tight – virgin tight – and Elle thought at first she wouldn’t make it all the way in. Giving a little screech through clenched teeth, Claire spasmed and arched her back and reached out reflexively to grab Elle’s wrist, almost pushing her away. Elle kept her finger very still, giving Claire a chance to regain control of herself. After a few moments Claire relaxed a bit and took her hand away from Elle’s wrist, her orgasm still pending.

_“Happy birthday to youuuu…”_

Elle thrust her little finger right up Claire’s final opening, and that was  _beyond_ too much.

“Love you,” Elle whispered, and clamped her mouth firmly over Claire’s. Then she released her power through her carefully positioned fingers.

It was a gentle release this time, not the blast she had ravished Claire’s nervous system with earlier in the evening. But it was enough. It was  _so_ enough.

At first, Claire was so stunned by the sensation that all she could do was reach out and claw frantically at the sheets with the hand that Elle wasn’t holding.

Then the screaming started. Elle kept her mouth firmly over Claire’s, drinking her howls of ecstasy like champagne. (And incidentally saving them from having hotel security break down their door.)

There was no mercy for Claire tonight, however. Elle slowly increased the voltage as the younger woman’s muffled screams grew more frantic and her struggles more desperate.

Elle could feel the power she was sending into Claire’s womanhood flowing through her lover’s body and back into her own, through her hand and her mouth. It reminded her so much of their experience on the plane that she closed her eyes and wondered if she could climax just from this feeling alone. After sixty seconds of concentration and just a little bit of rubbing her thighs together, she had her answer. She slipped over the edge, her groans of pleasure providing a brief counterpoint to Claire’s screams.

Writhing in ecstasy, Elle took Claire’s virginity away with dancing fingers of blue fire.

When her head cleared from her orgasm, Elle could still feel Claire’s deep-inside muscles hysterically grabbing and releasing her middle finger. Claire’s screams had died down to convulsive, shivering sobs. She was soaking wet from head to toe… with sweat, with tears, and with other things.

Elle decreased the current gradually, and slowly pulled her fingers out. Claire was no longer making noise… just breathing hard and staring at the ceiling with glassy eyes. Elle lay next to her, gazing at her, as she finally turned off her power altogether and began to caress Claire’s flat, sweaty belly with slow, soothing strokes.

“If you ever think maybe you’re losing the ability to feel anything, Claire,” she said, “come and see me. Got it?”

*    *     *     *     *

The wetness of their bodies made them feel chilly. Neither of them wanted to bother going over and fiddling with the air conditioning, and they certainly didn’t want to dry off just yet. So Elle and Claire moved over into the warmer, drier bed and slipped into each other’s arms beneath the sheets.

“I think I might have actually  _died_  a few times there,” Claire said sleepily. “That was pretty nice for our first time together, wasn’t it?”

“Well, first time that you’ve actually  _been_  here for,” Elle replied with a grin. “I’ve given you quite a bit of thought in my solitary moments, after all. In that hot blue cheerleader uniform of yours.”

“Hmmm. Not the red one? You know, the one I wore when you were  _spying on me_  in school, you perv?”

“Actually, in the way I picture it,  _I’m_  wearing the red one.”

Claire chuckled. “Naughty girl. Actually, I’ll bet it would fit you. Let’s try it sometime.”

“Can’t wait.”

Claire discovered to her surprise that it was possible for Elle to nuzzle in even closer to her than she was a few seconds ago.

“Mmmm,” she said, nuzzling back. “You know, Elle, you’re pretty snuggly for a crazy sociopath.”

Elle giggled. “Feeling much better now,” she sighed. “ _Much_  better. Maybe getting barbecued on that beach was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“ _Elle!_  Don’t say that.”

“Sylar’s Finger-Lickin’ Elle-B-Q…”

“Elle, shut up!” Claire smacked her on the hip. “I’m the one who had to find you like that, you know. Do you know how awful it was? If I didn’t already have a plan for getting you back, I’d have just laid down on that beach next to you and never gotten up again.”

“I know.” Elle stroked Claire’s hair. “I just thought we’d both done enough crying and maybe laughing was good for a change. Let’s not give him the power to make us cry any more. Okay, Claire? Deal?”

Claire sighed and smiled. “Deal. You know, Elle, that whole sociopath thing may have been just a bunch of bullshit your father fed you so you wouldn’t try and take responsibility for your own actions. But I do think you’re just a little bit crazy.”

“Maybe so, pom-pom. Wanna be crazy with me?”

Claire closed her eyes and smiled and hugged Elle tight. “Deal, again. My girl is on a roll.”

They found that the window of their suite gave a lovely view of the sunrise.

 

**The End**


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